


Hold Me While I Shatter

by AniRay



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniRay/pseuds/AniRay
Summary: They were careful. But not careful enough.Strange how some things are never enough
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Lizzie Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	Hold Me While I Shatter

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags and proceed accordingly

They were careful.

_Her hips rolled over him, cunt clenching tight around his cock._

They wanted to wait a bit.

 _He had her on the bed and his cock inside her in the span of two heartbeats. It was desperate- this need to be in her, fill her,_ claim _her. He couldn’t wait, couldn’t go slow._

They’d talked about this- the one thing in their marriage they’d actually agreed on.

_God, he couldn’t take her moving like this- driving him mad. “Now, Lizzie, fucking right now!”_

_“Please, please Tommy... Like that…Just- Oh,_ oh _!”_

He always pulled out.

 _His hips drove up plunging his cock in deep. She was so fucking tight. He couldn’t breathe from how good it felt. His hands held her tight against him, locking them together as he filled her, marked her,_ owned _her._

They were always careful- except that night. God, that night. 

_“You belong to me. My property. No one touches my property.”_

“Tommy? Just say something, will ya?” 

He blinked, slow, trying to make sense of what Lizzie’d just said. Wasn’t much to say, though, was there? What does a man say when his wife tells him she’s pregnant? When they’d agreed to wait until things had calmed a bit. When they both still remembered the way things had gone last time. He’d almost lost her. He’d almost lost Ruby, too. Made a man rethink the number of children he wanted, watching his wife nearly bleed to death in their bed. And she was thinking it too, Lizzie was. 

He watched some emotion flit across her features and knew. Then he looked at her a bit more closely. It always caught him off guard- how lovely she was. Like in this moment when there was so much fear in her green eyes. When she had her head held high, neck long and graceful. When he could appreciate the curve of her cheeks and the plushness of her mouth. Didn’t know what it was exactly. Didn’t know why he was always so surprised when his cock got hard for her as often as it did. 

(He knew why. Fuck if he’d say it, but he knew.)

“You’re pregnant. Assume you wanna keep it or you wouldn’t be telling me.” She folded her arms across her chest, like she was angry. But she wasn’t. He’d learned, hadn’t he, her way of hugging herself. His eyes narrowed a bit seeing it. She’d never done it with him before. Always when talking about rough johns or her father- when she felt unsafe but didn’t want it to show. “Lizzie?” She blinked at him, green eyes bright with fire now- to hide the fear. “Not our first go, eh? It’ll be alright.”

Slowly, like she wasn’t quite sure, her arms went back to her sides. She gave him a firm nod and turned to leave. But she’d gotten no more than two steps before she turned back. “If- if you’re gonna leave-” His mind went back to that field- Dangerous and Grace and mist and a gun. And then Lizzie- warm and gentle and asking for a walk home. “I don’t wanna bring another kid into this world just for their father to leave ‘em. I don’t ask much, but...” She took a deep breath and he braced for a blow. “Stay with us?”

It was the hardest blow she could’ve thrown at him.

He stared at her for a long moment. Then his eyes went to the picture of Grace he kept on his desk. Beside it was a picture of Ruby, Charlie and Lizzie. He didn’t look at that one. _‘Come home to me.’_ Her voice sent chills along his spine. Her cool fingers ran across his neck. He welcomed both. But he forced himself away from her, forced himself to look at Lizzie. Her eyes said she didn’t expect him to agree. They said she was preparing herself to get rid of a kid she wanted to keep. 

“I know my responsibility.” The words came out harsh and begrudging and accusatory. Like it was her fault Grace was gone. Like it was her doing that he couldn’t be with the woman he truly wanted. Like she’d not been willing to let him go- even if it meant letting her child, _their_ child, go in the process. But she didn’t flinch, Lizzie. Because she was still waiting, he realized. For his word. He wished he could hate her, then. Wished that more than he wished Grace back, and didn’t that say everything. “I’ll stay,” he seethed. “Now get out.”

She did.

He bent over his desk, head falling into his hands. Hadn’t he said, after the rally, hadn’t he said he’d be better? Hadn’t he said he’d learn to treat her right? ‘ _Can you walk me home, Tommy?’_ Fuck. “Fuck,” he whispered. Silence answered. Grace had gone. She never stayed long- she hadn’t when she was alive either, though. Didn’t know why he expected any different. It’d always been Lizzie. She’d always stayed, even when he’d pushed her away with both hands. 

And now… 

And now.

-  
She was smiling. 

It pulled him up short seeing it. Oh, he’d caught a smile here and there since they’d gotten married. But usually it died when she saw him, not got wider. Not this one, though. She rushed over to him, grabbing his hand. His brows furrowed in confusion for a second, as she lifted his hand to her stomach. But then he felt it. Barely anything, but there. He watched her eyes light up, brighter than he’d ever seen them. “You felt it?” He nodded. “I’d been nervous. Felt Ruby earlier than this. Thought maybe- Well, doesn’t matter, does it?” 

He’d wondered, too, but hadn’t asked. He’d seen the worried look in her eye. He’d watched her- hands pressing against her stomach, concentration etched across her features. But to ask seemed too big a risk. Like if he wanted it, too, fate would take it from her to spite him. The baby kicked again. He felt a small smile of his own work itself free. Lizzie didn’t see, her head bent as she whispered something to the baby. 

He pulled his hand away but she barely noticed. She turned, hands cupping her belly, and wandered down the hall. He could hear her voice, soft and happy, chattering all the while. It was…nice. He took in a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. She was more than halfway through her pregnancy. A few more months and there’d be another Shelby in the family. He glanced at the portrait of Grace hanging on the wall. 

_Maybe_ …

He stopped before the thought had even finished. Guilt crept into his veins. He turned to his office. He didn’t even startle when he saw Grace leaning against his office door. ‘ _Has she taken my place, Thomas?_ ’ He took an unsteady step forward, shaking his head. But she was already gone. He paused on the threshold of his office. He heard the click of Lizzie’s heels coming close again. Turning his head he watched her, lost in a haze of joy- like a mother should be. She glanced up and caught him watching her. And wasn’t she a vision. ‘ _Has she taken my place?_ ’

He stepped into his office and closed the door.

-  
Too quiet. 

The house was too quiet when he got home. It had him reaching for his gun. Had him walking the house room by room. The kitchen was empty, though he’d gotten home in time for supper. His office was locked- as he’d left it. The rest of the downstairs rooms were in order, nothing broken or missing. He made his way upstairs. He checked each bedroom, fighting not to pass them all and go straight for the nursery. But it was empty, too, only the usual mess on the floor. 

Finally he went to his room. Glass crunched underfoot when he stepped in. Lizzie’s perfume. The sheets had been ripped from the bed. Lizzie’s vanity mirror was broken, the brushes and hair things were scattered about on the floor. He felt his breathing grow heavy, fast, _painful_. Because someone had gotten her. No other explanation. Someone had come into his house and taken his fucking wife, taken his kids. 

There was blood on the carpet, too much of it. He followed the trail, mind fracturing with every step, to the bathroom. She’d been barefoot. For a moment he could do nothing but stare at that one bloody footprint. Stare and imagine. He blinked. Took in the rest of the room. They’d grabbed her here, then. There was nothing broken, just a bloody handprint on the edge of the tub. He could see her, tired and hurt. She hadn’t been able to fight anymore. 

He rushed down the stairs, pulling his key from his pocket. His hands shook as he opened his office. He ran to the phone, mind going through who to call, who to threaten. Because someone had his family. Someone had come into his house, his fucking _home_ , and they’d taken his _family_. He collapsed into his chair, hands pressing hard against his head. He couldn’t think. They needed him and he couldn’t fucking _think_. It had to be Mosely. Who the fuck else? Who else could it be? Michael? The Billy Boys? Fucking _who_? He stood up, hand shaking hard, and reached for the phone.

And froze.

For a moment he thought it was a hallucination. Thought that in the panic he was seeing Lizzie instead of Grace. But when he blinked, she was still there. And he knew- in some dark, broken place he didn’t like to touch- that this isn’t how he’d see Lizzie in a hallucination. He’d see her as she’d been on their wedding day. The day that still haunted him for reasons he couldn’t (he could. He fucking could) name. 

“Lizzie?” She didn’t move. She was in the dress she’d worn to Aberama’s funeral. Black, heavy… For mourning. Her face was pale, bloodless in a way that scared him. Her feet were bare, and he could see red staining her toes. “Lizzie?” She didn’t blink. Only reason he knew she was alive was the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. 

“I scared the kids.” He made his way around his desk. Slowly, so not to startle her. She wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t even sure she really knew he was there. She seemed…so far away. But he nodded anyway, told her to go on. She did. “Thought I’d pissed on myself.” He slowed even more- barely moving, him. “Then I saw the blood. So much blood.”

He’d almost reached her, was a step away when her head fell back. Her eyes fluttered closed. He moved then, wrapped his arms around her and picked her up. It was awkward, she wasn’t so little as she’d been a few months ago. But he managed. He rushed out of the office and up the stairs. He almost carried her to their room, but stopped himself in time. He laid her in a guest bed just as a banging came at the front door. He hesitated, eyes tracing over his wife. He didn’t want to leave her- not like that, lost in this much pain. _But_ …He pressed a kiss to her head, “Not leaving. You stay, too.” 

Then he was heading back down the stairs. His hands had blood on them, Lizzie’s blood. It made his chest tight and achy to see it. He opened the door to find Polly and the doctor they kept on payroll. He motioned for them to follow him and led them to Lizzie. He turned to his aunt as the doctor stepped into the room. “Driver showed up with Frances and the kids. Said she’d fired them all. Frances told me she’d lost the baby. But,” She nodded towards the doctor. “Tommy, it still has to come out.”

He nodded, eyes going to Lizzie. She was stirring a bit. He moved into the room and settled onto the bed beside her. Her hand went to her stomach and she smiled a bit, before her eyes opened. For a moment- a spilt second- she looked at peace. Then he _watched_ her remember. Watched the light drain from her eyes. Her hand pressed hard into her stomach- like she could force life back into the child. 

“Doctor’s here.” Tears welled in her eyes and Tommy thought he’d never breathe without pain again. She nodded, resignation clear in the dull green of her eyes. A single tear slipped free. Tommy leaned over and kissed it away. Pulling back a bit, he let his forehead rest against her temple. It hid her pain from the doctor’s eyes. It hid it from him, too. His hand found hers between them and he tangled their fingers together. Gave her all the strength he had. It wasn’t much- she was the one who usually kept him together when he was falling apart. But it was all he had, so it’d have to do.

He felt her take a shaky breath, felt her tense beneath him and he knew. “I’m ready.” She wasn’t, but he stayed quiet. He pressed another kiss to her hair and pulled away completely. Except for their hands, he didn’t let go of her hand. “The kids?” He nodded towards Pol. Lizzie met his aunt’s eyes and Tommy watched something unspoken- something closer to the mystic than this realm- pass between them. 

The doctor motioned towards Tommy. “If you’re gonna stay, get behind her. She’s weak from having lost so much blood. Prop her up against you.” He felt Lizzie tense at that. Saw the way she turned her head. Things had been better between them. But now- when she was vulnerable, when she needed to trust him with herself and not the kids- she still expected him to let her down. 

So he pretended not to notice her surprised gasp when he settled behind her. And he pretended it didn’t fucking break him open the way she was so hesitant to lean into him. Then there was no room for thinking. Because Pol was saying Lizzie was ready. The doctor was telling her to push. And Tommy could feel the strain Lizzie was under. Her entire body tensed and fighting. Every bit of strength she had going into bringing a child into the world that would never see it. 

And when she was exhausted, when she said she couldn’t do anymore, he held her up. He whispered that she was strong, that she could do it, that he was proud of her. And maybe it wouldn’t mean anything after all this- maybe she wouldn’t remember any of it- but he meant every word and he could give her that if he couldn’t do anything else. He could fucking give her the words. 

_She deserves more than words. She deserves fucking more than words._

-  
Lizzie stopped pushing.

The doctor handed Pol a small, messy, blue baby.

Tommy- tears in his eyes he wouldn’t let fall- held his wife while the world fell apart.

-  
She didn’t speak for a month. 

Not one word. Not to Charlie or Ruby or Ada or Polly. She slept in the room she’d delivered the baby in. It’d been a boy. She’d whispered the name John before handing him back to Polly. She hadn’t spoken since. She’d not cried since, either. And he’d asked- the staff, the children, Pol and Ada. But it was always the same answer. 

Fucking terrified him.

Stepping into the Garrison, Tommy scanned the room for his brother. He didn’t come to the Garrison much anymore. Too many memories. Too many of them with Grace. But he’d gotten a call. Barkeep said his brother was looking for him- that it was urgent. And with Arthur ‘urgent’ could mean fucking anything, couldn’t it. He spotted his brother at a back corner booth. Someone was with him, but Tommy couldn’t tell who from where he was.

Weaving through the throng of people took a bit longer than he would have liked. Shaking hands and shit was annoying before it’d been his career. Now it was just another thing keeping him from being able to take a full breath. By the time he’d got to the booth Tommy’d almost forgotten about the other person sitting with Arthur. But when green eyes blinked up at him in anger, the rest of the room fell away.

“You called _him_?” He almost flinched at the animosity in Lizzie’s voice. Might have been talking about her worst enemy the way she spat out ‘him’. Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but she was already standing, climbing over him to get out of the booth. “Fuck you, Arthur Shelby. Fucking- fucking- You just couldn’t-” But she was crying now. Arthur had his arm wrapped around her, keeping her from going over him. And Tommy hated what he was seeing. Because she was in pieces, his Lizzie. Falling apart and scrambling to catch the broken bits. 

Tommy stepped forward as Arthur slid out of the booth. His brother passed Lizzie over to him. Their eyes met over her head, and Tommy could see the protective side of Arthur coming out. Didn’t happen much, but… Well, they all had a soft spot for Lizzie, his family. “I’ve got her, brother.” A solemn nod from his older brother was the only response Tommy got before Arthur straightened his jacket and walked out of the pub. “C’mon, Lizzie girl. Let’s go home, eh?”

She didn’t fight him. He almost wished she would. That bit of fire, that anger she’d greeted him with, was the first bit of real emotion he’d seen from her in a month. Bad as it was, it was something. And he’d take fucking anything. But she was quiet again now. Still and locked inside herself. Pulling her coat around her tight, he brushed the tears from her cheeks and kissed her forehead before leading her out of the pub.

The drive to Arrow House was both too long and too short. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was relieved to be back or not when they arrived. He got out of the car and went around to open Lizzie’s door for her. He led her into the house and to his office. He couldn’t quite convince himself that she’d be alright alone just then. He was settling in at his desk before he realized that Lizzie hadn’t moved from where he’d left her just inside the closed door.

“Lizzie?”

She blinked. Then she charged him. He’d barely gotten his feet under him before she was swinging at him. Fists pounding against his chest. Legs kicking out, trying for his shins. Nails scratching at his arms. And through it all, screaming. It _killed_ him. This was it. This was what he’d been waiting for- what he’d been terrified of. Because she sounded like she was dying. Like the pain had swallowed her whole and this, this broken desperate voice, was all that was left of the woman he knew. And the tears. God help him. He’d seen her cry, but never like this. Not even that day. 

Finally he caught her arms and spun her around. Her back was pressed to his front and he was wrapped around her. She fought him, she fought him hard. But he didn’t let go- couldn’t risk her hurting herself. “Oh, Lizzie,” he sighed. “My Lizzie. Let it out, love. I’ve got you. I’m here. Let it out.” Her head fell back against his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to her throat. Tears came to his eyes as sobs wracked through her. 

“I don’t know what I did wrong.”

His eyes fell closed. “Nothing, love. You didn’t do anything wrong. You loved him. And he knew it. Yeah? He knew.” She let out a sound that sent chills though Tommy’s veins. A keening sound that seemed to hold every bit of the pain she’d not let out before. His arms tightened around her as his eyes squeezed tighter against her pain. “There. There you are. Let go for me, Liz. Let it go.”

It was a long time before she went fully quiet. 

Even longer before he let her go.

-  
Later, they laid in bed together. He stared at the ceiling listening to Lizzie breathe. She wasn’t asleep, he wasn’t sure she slept anymore. Words were tumbling around in his head, slipping into his mouth, locked behind his teeth. He’d been swallowing them. But the louder the silence grew, the heavier the space between him and Lizzie got, the harder it was to hold the words in. And she’d asked for words, hadn’t she? Before?

 _Before_ … 

He barely recognized ‘before’.

“Can you give me a hug?” Her voice was barely anything. He almost missed her words, they were so quiet. “Just once? Not when I’m screaming at you or pushing out a dead baby or nearly getting raped at a race. Just once can it be something-” Her voice broke and something in Tommy broke with it. “Can it be something nice and easy with no hurt to it?”

He pulled her into his arms, wrapped them around her as tight as he dared. 

“Don’t know if I should say this. Don’t know if- if now’s the time, but…” He took in a deep breath, air full of the scent of vanilla and Lizzie. “I miss him, too. You- fuck, Lizzie- you weren’t alone, alright, in the hurting. You’re not alone in it.” She pressed closer to him, fists holding tight to his shirt, and nodded. “You tell me, alright? When you’re ready- if you want to try again- I’ll give you another, Lizzie. It won’t replace this one, but…” She shook her head. He wasn’t sure how long she’d feel that way, but he’d not push her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Alright.”

The silence returned. She didn’t break it this time. But she didn’t pull away and he didn’t let her go. And when she fell asleep it was in his arms. He let himself enjoy it. He let himself sink into the warm weight of her body pressed against his. And when he was sure she was sleeping, sure it couldn’t hurt her, he let the words out. 

“I was scared, Lizzie. Thought someone had taken you- taken the kids. And then I was scared I’d lose you- first to the blood, then to the…pain.” His arms tightened around her, just a bit. He was careful not to wake her, though. Couldn’t do this with her awake. (Not yet, but soon. Soon.) “I promised myself- after the field- I promised I’d treat you better. I didn’t. And then again, when you got pregnant, I promised myself I’d do better. And I did that time. I tried, Lizzie. Now I’m promising _you_. Alright? I’m promising.”

He let the silence rise around them- not so loud this time. 

Then he fell asleep, his wife tucked securely in his arms.

-  
It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t easy.

But things got better.


End file.
